Never have I ever... been a runner. Ever. I have even conjectured that if my life were threatened in hot pursuit on foot, I still do not think I would run. That is how much I dislike running and that is how terrible I am at running. It isn't that running is a difficult concept. One foot in front of the other, repeat. Now just do it a little bit faster and voila, running. Except that it feels awful. I cannot breathe, my body seems to prefer bouncing up and down in place as opposed to making wonderfully long strides like a gazelle, and I am pretty sure there are certain speed walkers that can move faster than I can while "running". And so, with all of that in mind, I took up running. I know, logical, right? Turns out I don't hate it as much as I thought I did. I was pretty accurate on the lack of skill in running though. So while I may look like I'm suffering internal organ failure while jogging around the neighborhood, I am actually quite pleased with my new hobby. So far I am doing 2 miles a day with Missy and the dogs in tow (after all, it is generally frowned upon to leave small children unattended at home, so in the jogging stroller she goes). Will I be winning any races any time soon (or ever for that matter)? No, so I set my goals much lower and a lot more realistically. By the end of the year, I'd like to be up to 4 miles a day and do at least one 5K (yes, I have run 5Ks before). I would like to think both are quite possible in the next 4 months. It doesn't sound like much in my head, but we'll see how much my knees bearing down under the strain of my love-handles agree. Who knows, maybe I will become fantastically thin and fit from all this running? I know, I know... lower and more realistic goals. It would be nice though!
So long for now!